


Closer

by NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: While finishing the preparations for a Federation delegation on Cardassia, Garak spots an old friend.--“Would you care to join me for a drink?” Garak asked.“I would love to.” Bashir made his excuses to his companions and followed Garak to a small table in the corner.





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by "Closer" by The Chainsmokers

Staying at The Bysmareck Hotel had once been a privilege reserved for Cardassia’s most distinguished citizens and most important visitors. Now it mainly housed those who had nowhere else to go. The building had been turned into emergency housing in the aftermath of the Dominion attack, though most had left the hotel for more permanent housing.

 

However it was finally getting to serve a bit of its old purpose by housing representatives from the Federation sent to appraise the situation on Cardassia and determine what aid they could offer. Hence why Garak was standing in the lobby, quietly observing. He had somehow become the undersecretary for Interstellar Affairs, a fancy-sounding post that mainly consisted of asking for whatever aid the rest of the quadrant was willing to provide.

 

As he meandered his way towards the bar, Garak spotted a form he would recognize anywhere. Tall and slender in Starfleet’s medical blue, Julian Bashir was leaning against the bar, drink in hand, chatting with other members of the Federation’s delegation. Garak approached him, unable to keep the smile off his face.

 

“Hello, Doctor,” he greeted warmly.

 

Bashir turned around, his eyes lighting up as his own smile brightened. “Hello, Garak,” he replied.

 

“Would you care to join me for a drink?” Garak asked.

 

“I would love to.” Bashir made his excuses to his companions and followed Garak to a small table in the corner.

 

“You didn't mention that you were part of the delegation in your last letter,” Garak stated, digging for information.

 

“That's because I wasn't supposed to be,” Bashir answered with a sigh. “I applied as soon as I heard about it, but Starfleet objected because of my enhanced status. They didn't want me getting publicity and inspiring other augments to follow my example.”

 

Garak flagged down a passing waiter and ordered his drink before turning back to Bashir with a sly smile. “A selfless, brilliant doctor and war hero?” Garak raised a teasing eye ridge. “Starfleet should be so lucky.” Bashir chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “But here you are. How ever did you manage it?”

 

Bashir shrugged. “The Vulcan I was with at the bar earlier is in charge of the medical personnel. She spotted my application and argued that it was illogical to exclude someone with so much experience treating and interacting with Cardassians because of ‘an antiquated Human prejudice’. Her words, not mine.” Bashir smiled. “The fact that I'm the only one in the delegation who knows even a lick of Kardasi just added to her argument.”

 

“A lick of Kardasi,” Garak echoed. “I must say I have missed your colorful idioms. Diplomats avoid them since they’re so often bungled by the translators.” He smiled fondly at Bashir as the waiter placed his drink on the table.

 

They chatted for a while at their corner table, talking about Cardassia, the station, their respective lives, and literature. After they’d fallen into a comfortable silence, Bashir nervously licked his lips and looked at Garak with eyes full of promise.

 

“Would you, ah, like to come back to my room, Garak?” Bashir asked tentatively.

 

Garak smiled. He’d allowed himself to hope that he wasn’t the only one who wanted this evening to end a certain way. “Lead on, my dear,” he purred, gently caressing Bashir’s hand.

 

Bashir smiled as they stood and led him back through the lobby, up the ornate staircase, and down a hallway to a door that was quickly opened.

 

The door had barely closed behind them when they crashed together in a desperate kiss, one full of years of longing and desire. They fell into bed shortly after: the culmination of their long-harbored passions for each other.

 

As they lay together in the afterglow of their love making, Garak tried to push thoughts of how this arrangement could not possibly last after Bashir – no, he was Julian now – after  _ Julian _ returned to Deep Space 9. He wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, because Julian was able to see that something was bothering him.

 

“What’s wrong, Elim?” Julian asked, his smile widening slightly as he said Garak’s given name.

 

Garak let out a sigh. “Nothing, my dear. My mind is simply anticipating this affair’s natural conclusion.”

 

Julian frowned, absently tracing Garak’s ridges with his fingers. “Do you have to be such a pessimist? Now, when we’ve finally gotten together?”

 

“You’re only here until the Federation delegation leaves in two weeks, then you’ll be back at your post on DS9,” Garak reminded, his hand coming up to hold Julian’s cheek. “As much as I would love for you to stay, this isn’t going to last.” Instead of being pacified, Julian’s frown deepened. Garak kissed him tenderly. “I’m not trying to be pessimistic, but I  _ am _ trying not to get caught up in fantasies and what ifs.”

 

“I don’t want to go back to my post,” Julian declared softly, as if he was almost afraid to voice it aloud. “I’m miserable on DS9. There’s no challenge anymore, and I’m so lonely.”

 

Garak scoffed lightly, his thumb stroking Julian’s cheek. “There’s no need to be maudlin, my dear. Ezri may have left you, but I’m sure there are plenty of potential partners on the station, and even more passing through if you want something brief. Besides, surely you have some friends that you can spend time with.”

 

Julian sighed. “It’s not the same. I keep seeing the ghosts of memories, expecting Miles or Sisko or Leeta to walk by. I haven’t had a Klingon come through my infirmary in over a month. I never thought I’d miss that.” Julian’s eyes focused firmly on Garak’s. “And I miss you. I miss our lunches. I miss the way my heart would flutter as I walked by your shop. I miss your company, Elim.” He pressed a soft kiss to Garak’s lips. “Keep me on Cardassia with you.”

 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Julian, but you’re rushing into things. This dreariness will pass and then you’ll laugh at how much you thought you needed an old tailor-turned-politician.”

 

“Never,” Julian protested. “I...I’ve wanted to be with you for years.”

 

“Really?” Garak asked, surprised. “Why didn't you say anything?”

 

Julian shrugged. “The same reasons you didn't, I imagine. Plus it would have been too risky for me before my genetically enhanced status was revealed…though I did think about it when you arrived in the internment camp.” He smiled sheepishly. “While you were complaining about Tain and declaring sentiment to be the greatest weakness of all, I was thinking about kissing you. If Martok hadn't come to fetch you, I might have done it.”

 

Garak caressed Julian's face. “Oh my dear Julian,” he whispered, pulling Julian in for another tender kiss. Julian’s eyes sparkled beautifully when they broke apart. Garak let out a sigh. He’d always had a weakness for those eyes. “If you want to stay on Cardassia, I won’t stop you,” Garak murmured. He placed his thumb on Julian’s lips to keep the younger man from speaking before he’d finished his piece. “But perhaps you should first see how these two weeks go  _ before  _ you start planning to upend your entire life.”

 

Julian pressed a kiss to Garak’s thumb and then his lips. “I’ll consider it,” he promised with a teasing smirk.  _ “Now _ just in case this doesn’t work out and these two weeks are all we get, I’d rather not waste time with you moping.”

 

Garak was more than happy to accept Julian’s terms.


End file.
